Pure and Simple
by Polkat
Summary: In a time when anyone could be a traitor how can you know who to trust? How can you know what is truth? After all, how far would you go to gain the impossible?
1. Introduction

Introduction:

I wrote this story as part of a challenge: a very unusual and, it turned out, extremely difficult challenge. The concept is simple enough: Use the following 10 sentences, in the order they are given, in a story set within Harry's sixth year. 

It was supposed to be short… you've probably noticed it isn't. I rather like the concept actually and I enjoy it when my characters start rebelling against the sentences because they're out of character; it wasn't supposed to turn out like that but it did. I hope you enjoy it.

Oh by the way; RL/SB hinted at as is RW/HG and both HP/GW and DM/GW... its all very complicated *grins* and of course *cough* review.

The Sentences

"Professor Lupin?" asked an astonished Hermione. "What are YOU doing here?"

"What if the person wants to kill you?" Ron replied.

"Auror?" questioned Hermione. "I thought he was only a professor?"

"So what do we do now?" Asked Harry in a timid voice.

"Yes, I'm fine," she assured him. "Just a little jumpy I guess."

"Hey guys, I'm going to the bathroom. Okay?"

"I don't hate you, I'm just extremely jealous of you." Draco screamed.

" Really, you want to be my friend?" Draco asked awestruck.

"I could ask you the same question, Remus."

"You have the effrontery to try and date Ginny! I shall see you suffer a thousand deaths for this!"


	2. Harry

Pure and Simple

Harry

The door of The Three Broomsticks swung open and the three figures fell inside, laughing at their own daring. It was about six in the afternoon and usually they would have been the only ones inside the pub, however it was deep into winter already and now the shops had begun to close and the light to fade the room was filling rapidly so that it was with another shout of triumph that the dark haired boy spotted a free table and wove his way towards it, the others following. 

They sat; Ron and Hermione perhaps a little closer together than was strictly in the interest of symmetry and Harry, slightly further away and, having noticed this, containing a smile. 

"I'll get the drinks, shall I?" Ron ventured but Hermione had been prepared for just such an eventuality and was already back on her feet. She shot a steely, knowing gaze at curvy Madam Rosmerta and one at her boyfriend whose ears were gradually tingeing the colour of sunset. "_I'll_ go," she declared and turned her glare onto Harry, who had concluded it was better to laugh after all. 

They watched her disappear off towards the bar before Ron decided it was OK to kick his best friend who had collapsed into giggles. "Stop it," he hissed. "What's so funny?" Harry laughed harder and tried to explain exactly what was so funny, managing to produce the words "you" and "Hermione" but little else that was understandable except for a loud "ouch!" as Ron kicked him again.

"Git," Harry said, fondly. "I don't know why she puts up with you."

Ron's expression went rather gooey. "I'm glad she does."

"Yes, so am I." 

They watched Hermione collect three bottles of butterbeer from the bar and start making her way back towards the table. 

"It's a bit late for you three to be out in Hogsmeade, isn't it?" a dry, slightly amused voice, commented from somewhere behind Harry. He jumped, they were not supposed to be out at all, and turned around as Professor Lupin slid into the chair next to him. "But then it's not even a Hogsmeade visitation day so the lateness of the hour is hardly the biggest issue here," Lupin continued, a smile washing over his face. "How are you?"

Across the table Harry could see Ron reddening as Lupin grinned at them and knew that he too was blushing; to be caught by a teacher, even a former teacher, visiting Hogsmeade illegally, could not be good. "Erm… fine," he managed. "How're you?"

Lupin's teeth flashed the candle light. "Not too bad-" 

He was interrupted by a soft, half yelp. "Professor Lupin?" asked an astonished Hermione. "What are _you_ doing here?" Then she seemed to remember this was rather rude and tried to change it into "I mean, how nice to see you again." She, too, was blushing furiously as she set the bottles down on the table and Harry suspected that even if Lupin hadn't already known they weren't supposed to be out, he would by now. 

"I was invited by Professor Dumbledore," Lupin informed them. "Why are _you_ here?"

"Doctors," Ron said just as Harry said "Crookshanks."

Lupin raised an amused eyebrow.

"Crookshanks is ill," Harry confirmed hopefully. "We, er, wanted a second opinion… I mean, he might be really sick."

"Yer and that would be _terrible_," Ron drawled. 

Lupin laughed. "Nice try. However," he turned to Hermione, "if you have any problems with your cat in the future, I'm sure Hagrid will be able to tend to it far better than anyone in the village so I wouldn't bother sneaking out of school again. Are you going to tell me why you're really here or am I going to have to guess, which judging from the number of scents I recognise coming from the shopping bag next to Harry's feet, will be embarrassing for you, but not overly taxing for me."

He fixed Hermione with an expression that was, apparently, only mildly curious and she crumpled; it had been difficult enough to convince her that using the passage into Honeydukes would be a good, if not necessary use of this evening. It was either that, Harry had declared, or stealing from Snape again and eventually Hermione had decided that leaving the school when they were not supposed to was better than outright theft and they had gathered under the invisibility cloak, Ron, now a good six foot tall, crouching in order to stop his feet showing, and headed towards the statue of the one eyed witch. Once in Hogsmeade they had purchased the ingredients they had come for and that Lupin had smelt, quickly, before the shops closed and without being seen by anyone who might have reported them before stopping in The Three Broomsticks. They had been so close. 

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled, and as if reading Harry's thoughts Lupin started laughing. "Don't worry I won't turn you in; I'm not that much of a hypocrite, however," he paused, "as your friend and former teacher I must advise you that if you're doing what I think you're doing, it is both very dangerous and extremely foolish."

"But-" Harry began.

"There are no buts, Harry," Lupin interrupted. "If I had thought about -" he stopped and apparently decided to change his argument. "It's not worth it; it's also highly illegal." He seemed to be directing this comment at Hermione, the sensible one, but ironically, Harry thought, this was only because he didn't know it had been her idea in the first place. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

Lupin was now staring at each of them seriously as if daring them to deny his allegations; Harry met his gaze uneasily. 

"So, why did Dumbledore invite you here?" he asked.

"You're changing the subject," Lupin insisted, a spark of his previous amusement edging round the words. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"We won't do anything stupid," Hermione assured him.

The atmosphere relaxed and Ron reached for his butterbeer. "So why are you here? Is it ok to tell us?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "Is it for the Order?"

Lupin leaned back in his chair and glanced around quickly at the other patrons of the bar to check they were being sufficiently noisy to cover the sound of his words. "I'm here on business," he said eventually. "Being what I am, there are certain people who believe I am… more susceptible to certain influences than _normal_ people," he paused. "Professor Dumbledore has suggested, and I agree with him, that we should play on this prejudice and so a meeting has been arranged between myself and a certain person who may be able to get me further inside but I'm not going to tell you any more, understand?"

"What if this person wants to kill you?" Ron replied. He looked eager but slightly worried; apparently he had managed to forget about the threat from outside in the run up to Christmas. 

"He probably does," Lupin answered, wearily. "Contrary to popular belief the Dark Lord's followers are no more open-minded about my kind than the average witch or wizard… less so perhaps. _However_, he will not try to kill me until I have been brought before his master; after all, if I really was willing to spy for Him I am sure I would prove invaluable."

"But you're not, are you?" Hermione asked anxiously.

Lupin laughed. "Merlin no." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "But then, if I was, I would hardly tell you." He withdrew a piece of parchment that looked oddly familiar from one of his pockets, surveyed it briefly and replaced it. "They're late," he announce. "You should be safe for a few more minutes." 

"They?" Harry asked curiously. "I thought you said Professor Dumbledore-"

"-Had invited me, yes he has but he's not the only one I need to talk to about this. Professors Snape and August should be arriving with him."

Professor August was their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was tall, dark and spoke briefly, as if conserving all his words for a time when he might actually need them. His hands though, were the main source of interest among the student body, for they were covered in tattooed dragon scales. Rumour had spread like wildfire through the school: Professor August was a dragon animagus! But eventually Dumbledore had gotten heed of these rumours and quashed them with a laugh; the tattoos were apparently purely decorative. He did seem to know a lot about the Dark Arts though and Hermione said she found him very educational, even if she was the only one who considered this a benefit. "Is he a former Death Eater too?" Ron asked excitedly. 

"Hardly; he's an auror."

"Auror?" questioned Hermione. "I thought he was only a professor."

Lupin turned to look at her. "Well," he said carefully; barely concealing another smile, "he's not; he's also an auror." 

Hermione flushed again and muttered something about none of the Defence teachers being what they seemed and couldn't one of them at least just be a teacher, would that be too much? 

"In times like these nobody can be what they seem," Lupin assured her sagely. "The truth is a terrible weapon, Hermione and one we will try and conceal from our enemies for as long as possible. However, I'm sure the Headmaster will forgive me for disclosing some of it to you; especially beneath the muffling spell around this table"

"This is going to be dangerous, isn't it?" Harry blurted out. 

His former teacher turned brown eyes onto him. "Yes," he said simply. "Yes, I believe this is the most dangerous thing I've ever done."

"Please don't die," Harry continued desperately. 

Now why had he said that? He wasn't sure but he knew that it had been vital and that Lupin needed to know. "I mean don't – die, please."

But Lupin seemed to know what he was saying. "I'll be careful, Harry," he said gravely.

"Thank you, Professor."

Lupin waved it aside, "don't call me that," he murmured. "It makes me feel older than I am which is old enough and reminds me of things I've lost… You must have known me long enough for it to be Remus now." He smiled at each of them in turn, the smile of a favourite uncle, [Hermione nodded seriously and Ron looked pleased] before turning to Harry. "There was a time when you called me Moony- well, Moono but that's beside the point; I don't think Remus is too big a step forward."

"Would you prefer Moony?" Harry asked, feeling rather dislocated at the mention of life before the Dursleys; Remus remembered that life.

"No," Remus replied shortly. "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't." He removed the parchment from his pocket and spread it over the table this time so they could see it was a map, very like the Marauder's Map in Harry's pocket. This one, however, was missing two of the map makers who had created the original. "Ah, they're almost upon us," Remus commented, as he examined the map which showed Hogwarts and a large section of the surrounding area including the pub they were sitting in and three ink dots labelled Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape and Jonathan August moving rapidly towards it. "You'd better leave before they get here," he declared, depositing the map back in his pocket. "And avoid the main road; if I remember correctly Dumbledore, at least, is not fooled by invisibility cloaks." He smiled wryly. "Something that proved to be extremely annoying even if he did find most of Sirius and James' pranks immensely amusing and let us off a lot of the time."

Harry thanked him and the three of them started pulling on their winter cloaks as fast as possible. He opened his mouth to say something else but Remus nodded and repeated: "I'll be careful. Now, unless you want to be cleaning portrait frames for the next week, I suggest you leave quickly; I've spent better evenings than that even after James enchanted them to sing Oklahoma for us." He glanced at the map again. "Go!"

They ran; out through the door and into the street where it was starting to snow. "Very romantic," Harry commented slyly and dodged the snowball that should have come from Ron and left him completely unprepared for the one hurled at him by Hermione. Spluttering snow Harry darted sideways off the high street after Ron who had already retreated there. They were in time to see the three professors arriving: Professor August clad in a long maroon cloak, Snape in a long Black one and Professor Dumbledore in midnight blue, patterned with constellations that twinkled and wearing earmuffs of the same shade. August and Snape moved quickly into the pub, Dumbledore following them after a quick glance at the hedge in which Harry, Hermione and Ron where hiding and a slight smile. The door closed behind them and Ron hissed: "is there nothing that man doesn't see? It's downright scary."

More practically Hermione said: "Let's go; it's cold" and they trudged back up towards the castle through the falling snow. 

"Do you think Lupe- sorry, _Remus_, really knows what we're up to?" Ron asked after they had walked a little way.

"Probably," Harry decided. "I mean, he would, wouldn't he? Knows all about it."

Ron made a non-committal noise. 

"He won't tell Dumbledore, will he?" Hermione asked anxiously and Harry had the peculiar sensation that they were actively seeking his opinion, as if he might know what Remus would do.

"I don't think so." 

He lapsed into silence. Whatever Remus was about to do was going to be more dangerous than anything he'd ever done before; more dangerous than his monthly transformations, more dangerous than infiltrating the Department of Mysteries last summer. 

Both of the others seemed to be thinking the same thing as he was; however careful Remus was it was very possible he would not return from this trip. They said nothing. 

"So what do we do now?" asked Harry in a timid voice, breaking the silence. "I mean… you heard what Remus said… maybe we can't-"

"We can," Hermione insisted. "And it'll be really useful for our exams although I still think we should ask McGonagall for help."

Neither of the boys said anything, Harry shifted the heavy bag of potion ingredients from his right hand to his left. They would not be asking McGonagall and Hermione knew this. 

"Why do you think he didn't want to be called Moony?" Ron asked suddenly, obviously the question had been bothering him. It had been bothering Harry too but there were more important things to worry about. 

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione asked, in the voice that she used when they asked why a particular potion was purple and not orange or why Cho Chang had started crying when Harry kissed her. Each time she said it Harry felt like pointing out that no, it wasn't obvious or they wouldn't have asked it, but he had once and Hermione had told him it was a rhetorical question which hadn't really made things any clearer and he'd abandoned it. 

Harry and Ron dutifully shook their heads; no it wasn't obvious. 

Hermione's face had closed up slightly. "It's because everyone who ever called him that is dead," she said simply. 

"Oh," Ron managed. 

They continued up towards the castle. 


	3. Remus

Remus

The Shrieking Shack was just as he remembered it. In the two years since his last visit things had fallen slightly further into disrepair and the carpet of dust was thicker but otherwise it remained the same as the night when Sirius and Peter had returned. He wasn't sure why he'd insisted on coming here instead of renting a room inside the Three Broomsticks just that it seemed safer: there would be no one listening in here and the Shack had served him well before even if almost all of his memories of this place were filled with pain. 

Dumbledore's wand flicked and the dust vanished; Remus shot a questioning look at him as the Headmaster seated himself in one of the dilapidated chairs. "It will return when we leave," Dumbledore assured him. "Nobody will know this meeting ever took place except those present here today. Jonathan if you would be so kind as to place the silencing spells; I fear I do not have the energy to do it myself." 

Remus raised an eyebrow but lowered it as he caught sight of Severus doing the same. A slight smile flickered over Dumbledore's face but vanished almost immediately. 

"It is done," August announced, sweeping back from the doorway and sitting down opposite the Headmaster. Dumbledore nodded his thanks. "Our time is brief," he said seriously, "I will be missed if I stay longer than an hour here and while I would hope that there is no one on my staff I cannot trust I cannot be sure of that so we must proceed with haste. Severus, if you would give Remus the potions." 

With a smile that looked like it was causing him physical pain Severus Snape removed three small vials, two black and one deep red, from the folds of his robes and passed them to Remus with swift, jerky movements. "It took me several months to devise and brew this," he informed Remus tightly. "Please _try_ not to waste it."

"I'll certainly try Severus," Remus replied lightly. "Believe it or not I'd rather like not to be horribly murdered actually."

Snape glared at him as if he did not believe that even this incentive would stop Remus wasting his time given the chance. Remus forced himself to smile politely. "I take it the red one is veritaserum itself."

"It is."

"I suggested you might like to test the potion for yourself before embarking into the Lion's den," Dumbledore remarked mildly from somewhere behind him. 

"What? Oh, yes of course." 

They were all watching him now. Remus deposited the red and one of the black vials in his pocket where they made a soft clinking sound and uncorked the other one; the stuff inside smelt acidic and slightly poisonous. He caught the pungent smell of armadillo bile and hellebore as he raised it to his lips. Hellebore was defiantly poisonous, wasn't it? He distinctly remembered that from potions. However, it seemed unlikely that Severus would be trying to kill him and even more unlikely that if he were to do so, he would do it in front of Albus Dumbledore. 

Remus drank. 

Nothing happened but perhaps _that_ was what was supposed to happen. He opened the veritaserum which of course, smelt of nothing. He was even more wary of this potion; the truth was something he had hidden from for as long as he could remember but if he could help the Order this way-

He swallowed and looked at Severus who was advancing on him. "Now what?"

"You have approximately five minutes before the veritaserum rebels against the potion," Snape informed him. "This means that during this time you should be able to lie to the Dark Lord if he questions you using it."

"And if he questions me for more than five minutes?" Remus asked, wishing he hadn't.

"Then the Dark Lord will certainly kill you and the world will be rid of one more werewolf," Snape replied, silkily.

"Sounds delightful; what a shame you couldn't volunteer for this mission yourself, Severus."

"Isn't it just," Snape smiled; Remus glared and Dumbledore rose to his feet. "This is not helping; we have enough to contend with without fighting among ourselves. Remus, what colour are your eyes?"

"Blue," Remus lied and was surprised to find it was possible. 

"Good," Dumbledore declared, then with a smile. "What are you feelings on Albus Dumbledore?"

He had prepared this answer and it rolled easily off his tongue like the truth. "He was a great man, but that was a long time ago. In the last few years it's been increasingly obvious that he's becoming senile and I will not work with someone I cannot respect." He glowered at Snape.

"Your feelings on Jonathan August?"

Remus looked across at the dark man. "I barely know him."

"Your feelings on Severus Snape," August rumbled, wearing the first smile Remus had ever seen on his face; apparently August had a sense of humour. 

"Wonderful person," Remus grinned back, knowing the lie would irritate Severus almost as much as the truth. "We should have been nicer to him at school because he's a really nice man once you get to know him."

"Good," Dumbledore said, smiling. "And your feelings on Lord Voldemort?"

"I hate him," Remus said truthfully, having decided earlier that Voldemort would probably pick up on his unexpected vow of total adoration and allegiance. "He's killed almost everyone I love; however, I am willing to serve him."

"And why is that?" Dumbledore asked; the smile had vanished.

"Because he's killed everyone I love," Remus said simply. "I don't have any reason to continue living this way and I've heard that he can cure lycanthropy; I will serve him in return for this cure."

"Are you a Member of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yes, I am," 

"And are you loyal to that Order?"

"…I was once."

"You don't sound convinced enough," Dumbledore told him, frowning slightly and thinking. "The words on their own should be enough, after all you're confessing under veritaserum but if you really were a potential Death Eater you'd be resentful and alive with religious fervour… Mind you, Voldemort must certainly know of you and I believe you've faced each other-"

"_Twice_," Remus replied then the word caught in his mouth as the five minute interval elapsed. "_Three_ times," he answered, tightly, the words felt like they were being pushed out of his mouth, as if someone were strangling him until he told the truth. "The last time was this summer when Sirius fell."

"And what are your feelings on Sirius Black exactly?" Snape asked, from the shadows, a smile twisting his face. 

"I-" 

No. He didn't want to tell Snape this.

"That's enough Severus," Dumbledore said sharply. "Remus, what colour are your eyes?"

"Brown," Remus answered, with relief. However, he could still feel the question Snape had asked bubbling just below the surface.

"And you are loyal to the Order of the Phoenix."

"Of course; they're the only family I have left." 

"And your real feelings on Severus Snape?" August asked, rising to his feet. 

"We should have been nicer to him at school," Remus replied truthfully, "because then he might not have turned out to be the world's biggest git." He smiled politely at Snape who was scowling in a corner. August laughed and the corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. "I know I shouldn't need to ask this," he said, smiling, "but for the record Remus: what are you feelings on Albus Dumbledore?"

The werewolf laughed. "He's the best person I know and someone I love and respect enormously."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Thank you Remus."

"You're very welcome."

"The veritaserum will wear off in approximately an hour's time," Snape interrupted disdainfully. "I suggest, _Lupin_, that you remove yourself from company until that time."

Remus nodded, not trusting his speech. 

"You know when and where you're supposed to be meeting with DeGraaf?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"Yes."

The old man extended a hand and Remus shook it. "Good luck."

"Thanks, I'm going to need it." He smiled but Dumbledore did not.

"Don't throw you're life away Remus," he said softly. "He may be dead but the battle remains to be fought." 

He squeezed the younger man's hand, gave an odd, uncharacteristic half smile and followed the other two from the room. Remus sank into the chair the Headmaster had just vacated. A large amount of dust materialised from the air and covered the floor, the furniture and Remus like fine, grey snow. Remus sighed.


	4. Harry

Harry

Hermione had gone to sleep over her books again. This particular one was large and contained lots of pictures of people turning into animals; it also came from the restricted section and Harry was surprised that nothing more horrible than a few whiskers appeared to have sprouted from her face. Ron was creeping up on her, quietly so as not to wake her, or at least not to wake her before he was ready. 

"_Hermione_," he whispered close to her ear. She started slightly and a whisker tickled his nose causing him to sneeze violently and back away from her. With a loud yelp Hermione grabbed her wand and was pointing it at Ron before she realised what was going on. 

Harry had leapt to his feet when Hermione had yelled and was now half way across the floor. Ron looked horrified to be staring at the end of Hermione's wand and Hermione appeared to have forgotten she was holding it.

"Hermione," Ron ventured cautiously, "are you going to put the wand down?"

"Oh, yes… sorry." She dropped it onto the table where it rolled in a circle before settling against the spine of the book, pushed her hair back out of eyes and discovered the whiskers. She gave an impatient tut and picked up the wand, removing them instantly and resumed her study of the book. Harry flopped into the chair opposite her and Ron, after checking there were no whiskers sprouting from _his_ face sat down next to her. "Hermione?" he began again but she seemed to have forgotten they were there and started once more. "Are you alright?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Yes, I'm fine," she assured him. "Just a little jumpy I guess." 

Ron looked unconvinced and Harry murmured _"little?"_ but neither of them felt like disturbing her further. It had been a long time since Hermione had slept through the entire night and when sleep deprived she grew very edgy. Ron left a brief kiss on her cheek and the two boys stole away. 

"I dunno how your dad managed this," Ron muttered as they started climbing the stairs. "Hermione's about to fall apart."

"It took him three years to crack it," Harry replied quietly. "Hermione's almost ready to begin testing after three months. No wonder she's so edgy."

"I hope I'm not a warthog," Ron laughed suddenly. "That would be so embarrassing." 

"I'm sure you won't be," Harry assured him, grinning. "You're much more the small annoying, rodent type."

Ron roared in mock anger and swiped at his head; Harry laughed and ran up the steps into the dormitory where someone who should not have been there was waiting for them.


	5. Remus

Remus

He had managed to forget how much he hated Knockturn Alley in the years he had successfully avoided it. As he strode through its grimy passageways a step behind his guide, a tall, dark faced man who seemed to be wearing a perpetual scowl of distaste, Remus concentrated on his character. The person following Waldemar DeGraaf was ready to serve Voldemort and somehow Remus couldn't quite suppress the feeling that that person might be overwhelmed by his real feelings once they were before the Dark Lord himself. He had always been a good liar, but this had mainly hinged around nobody believing that Remus Lupin would ever lie to them; he was such a _nice_ boy, even if he did insist on befriending Potter and Black who were not. In this case however, he would have to convince Voldemort that he was not nice, that he was willing to betray his friends for the sake of freedom from his curse. To see the full moon through his own eyes, Remus thought, would indeed be wonderful; to sit beneath the purple and blue sky and just…think-

But what was the use of being fully human if Voldemort were in power? 

Besides, he decided, if I joined them it wouldn't matter whether I was no longer a werewolf; I'd still be a monster. 

"_Wolf_?" DeGraaf snapped and Remus realised it was probably not the first time the question had been asked.

"Death Eater?" he replied calmly. Let this underling see he was not afraid, though he was. Whoever this man was he was not more useful to Voldemort than Remus was. "Can you follow my apparition trail?" the man said curtly, somewhat taken aback.

"Is Severus Snape the world's biggest git?" Remus asked quietly.

"What?"

He stifled a laugh; how inappropriate. "Yes, I can follow your apparition trail."

The man scowled once more and, with a crack, was gone. Remus closed his eyes and located DeGraaf's aura in the air. He caught onto it and apparated.

The house in front of him was old and sprawling; clearly the ancestral home of one of the more recently recruited Death Eaters, possibly it had been DeGraaf's but there was no time to inquire because after checking that Remus had arrived more or less in one piece the Death Eater moved off quickly through the ramshackle garden. The large ornate doorway opened with a whispered word and a creaking of hinges and the two moved inside, Remus trying not to seem overly repulsed by the _decorations_ the house's previous occupants had apparently thought were acceptable. DeGraaf stopped before a door that was almost as large as the front entrance. "Wait here," he instructed, briskly and knocked.

"Enter," a voice ordered and the Death Eater opened the door and disappeared behind it in a substantial courtyard, leaving Remus standing in the corridor, which flickered with the pale light from a single candelabra. Remus peered at a fading painting on the wall nearest to him; the elderly man inside smiled unpleasantly at him, laughed but did not speak. 

The door reopened as suddenly as before. "The Dark Lord awaits your presence," DeGraff intoned formally. Remus turned away from the painting, which was now watching with interest and stalked through the door; he was a Gryffindor: he would behave like one. 

__

"Remus Lupin." It was not a question. "To what do we owe the great pleasure of your company tonight?"

A large fire crackled in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by a dozen or so men, shrouded in dark robes; one of them had a hand that glinted silvery in the firelight; Remus tried not to look at him but instead focused on the grand chair facing away from him, towards the fire; the chair from which the voice had emanated. 

"I think you already know, my Lord."

"True," the voice hissed. "But I wish to hear it from you."

Remus swallowed. "I am here to serve you, my Lord."

Voldemort rose from his chair and turned to face the werewolf. He smiled. "Yes, I know you are." 


	6. Harry

Harry

"How the hell did you get in here?" Ron demanded angrily.

Draco Malfoy turned in the window seat and lounged back against the curtains. "If it makes you happy, Weasley, you can believe I got in using dark magic, however, the truth is I followed you after lunch last Monday and learnt the location and the password." He examined his fingernails disinterestedly. "But that's hardly very impressive, is it?" He started buffing them on the edge of his robes.

Ron gaped at him, too stunned even to be angry. Harry, however, moved towards the door and opened it again "Well it doesn't matter how you got in because you're leaving now. Goodbye Malfoy."

Malfoy laughed softly. "You make it sound as if you think I might actually heed that order."

Harry pulled out his wand. "If you don't I'll curse you so hard that you won't be able to get your ears straight for the next month."

"No," Malfoy said, "you won't."

Ron laughed, regaining the power of speech at last, and removing his wand too. "If he doesn't I will; get out."

Malfoy smiled and reclined further back into the window. "You know what Weasley, I don't think I will. I rather like it here; the Slytherin common room is so dingy besides," he closed his eyes and yawned "I have a message for you."

Harry looked at Ron who looked back at him with equal astonishment. As one they started towards the blonde boy and yanked him roughly to his feet, sending him spinning across the dormitory floor. Malfoy's eyes were open again now, and blazing with what was not anger but rather malicious delight. 

"Alright, Potter," Malfoy began softly, "I'll leave if you want but when you hear the news that your half-breed friend is dead don't come crying to me because I did try to warn you."

Harry's thoughts flew immediately to Hagrid but then shifted direction rapidly. "Remus is in danger?" he asked.

Malfoy shrugged infuriatingly. "He might be." Harry started towards him and Malfoy laughed. "Don't get your knickers in a twist… you're right; he is in trouble. Silly little werewolf thought he could lie to Lord Voldemort." 

The memory of Remus grinning at them in The Three Broomsticks flashed into Harry's mind. "I don't believe you," he said quickly, not sure whether he did or not. "How would you know?"

Malfoy's fingers flickered to his right arm; he seemed somehow younger, fiddling with the fabric. Then he gave a look that seemed to say _'why shouldn't I show you? What do I care for your opinion?"_ and pushed up his right sleeve; there on his arm was a large black tattoo of a snake emerging from a skull. "I think," he said quietly, "that you can at least trust me as far as knowing is concerned. Now you haven't much time. Lord Voldemort requests your presence, Potter; should you refuse this invitation Remus J Lupin will certainly die. What is your answer?"

"You're bluffing," Ron insisted.

"I might be bluffing," Malfoy admitted, letting the sleeve drop. "But," he added, turning to Harry, the secret smile creeping back across his face, "are you willing to take that risk?"

Harry didn't even think. "No," he said softly. 

"Good," Malfoy said briskly, sweeping towards the door. "Potter, you will come with me; Weasley…" he waved his hand dismissively. "Stay here and do… whatever you people do for fun. I don't know… snog Granger." He turned as he reached the door and regarded Ron seriously. "The invitation is for Potter _alone_, Weasley, do you understand this?" Ron glared. "If you, or Granger or Albus Dumbledore: the saint that walks this earth, appear by accident in the same place I am taking Potter too, he will die." He smiled again: feline, and laughed at something, shaking his head. "To think you had the effrontery to order me away from here," he opened the door, still extremely amused. "Follow me Potter."


	7. Remus

Remus

He stumbled backwards into the space where the chair had been. But – no, he didn't feel like that, one part of his brain clamoured. Voldemort was watching him; smiling and watching him. _"The truth is a dreadful thing,"_ he murmured but Remus did not hear him; too locked in the tempest of his own mind. This couldn't be happening. 

In the beginning he had thought the plan was working. As Severus and Dumbledore had predicted Voldemort did not bother questioning him with legilimency. Remus was a skilled Occlumens and even had he had not been, there are certain defences that evolve naturally when one is a werewolf; non magical ones that merely involve concealing from everyone possible, who and, more importantly, what you are. If Voldemort had probed Remus' mind, doubtlessly he would have been able to penetrate it eventually but the process would have been long and irksome to him. Above the fire was a large cauldron and from this a goblet was withdrawn and passed to the Dark Lord who held it out to Remus. "For my piece of mind," he suggested, with a smile, as if he trusted Remus implicitly but merely – wanted to be sure.

It was at least half full, silver and coiled with snakes that writhed beneath Remus' touch as he took it from Voldemort, careful not to touch the long, corpse white fingers. Voldemort's red eyes watched him eagerly and, though he could not see them, so did the eyes of the Death Eaters gathered around him. Remus drank and felt the veritaserum rush through his system. Voldemort smiled again like Remus was and old friend, who had been missing a long time but had, now, returned, and beckoned him forward. The Death Eaters moved backwards and revealed a second chair opposite their lord's in which he was clearly supposed to sit. It was the twin of Voldemort's and incredibly uncomfortable; the Dark Lord seated himself with subtle grace and regarded Remus thoughtfully. "Tell me why you want to become a Death Eater," he ordered quietly and Remus told him.

Minutes of intensive questioning followed this and it was with a powerful surge of relief that Remus eventually rose to his feet with Voldemort. He looked somehow sad, as if Remus' story had touched him and filled him with pity he had not felt before. He extended his long fingered hand to the werewolf. "You're life is indeed been filled with tragedy, my friend," he said sorrowfully. "I promise you if the means stand open to me I shall take them at any cost to ensure your future happiness." He stepped closer and Remus stepped with him, until they stood together in the circle of a ring of Death Eaters. "Now, take my hand and call me brother. Your new family awaits you."

Remus' eyes met the ones opposite his; the eyes of the most evil man in England if not the world, and saw writ in them, sadness. He took the offered hand and his body spasmed in rebellion as the horror inside Voldemort tried to seep through his skin. Remus fought back the urge to run and the tremors and managed two words: _"my brother." _

Surely, he thought headily, Voldemort was about to release him but he did not.

"It is time, my Lord," a voice rumbled. 

"Thank you," Voldemort murmured. "Now Remus, why don't you tell me again why you want to join my family." All the pity in his eyes seemed to have fled; he did not let go of Remus' hand. "It touched me so deeply the first time that I simply must hear the story again."

And Remus wrenched his hand away. 

"I can't join you. I will never join you" he panted, backing away into the arms of the two Death Eaters who had stepped forward in order to retrieve him. 

Once again the sadness filled Voldemort's face. "No, I did not think you would." A long finger caressed the edge of Remus' face, filling him once more with inescapable agony. "It's a terrible thing to be lied to Remus," he said softly as Remus skin writhed away from his touch. "You tried to join my family under false pretences but," he lifted Remus' chin with one finger so that the werewolf was forced to meet his eyes again, "I am willing to forgive you. Just tell me what I have to offer you for the offer of your friendship to be real."

"I can think of nothing," Remus spat.

Voldemort withdrew his finger. "I know you cannot," he said simply. "Fortunately, I have thought of it for you, or rather, to give him credit where credit is due, your friend Wormtail has provided you with a means of entering my family. He would not, it seems, see you die." Remus felt his eyes swing involuntarily to the man with the silver hand; he looked so much taller here: shrouded in a black cloak, hidden by a white mask. "Remus," Voldemort murmured again, "what are you feelings on Sirius Black?"

Remus felt hatred explode inside him but the answer rushed up to his mouth. "He was my-" It was as if time had slowed down. Let me say 'friend' Remus thought. 'Best friend,' 'Lover' even; anything that suggested even a hint of impartiality but the veritaserum was singing in his veins and the answer welled up unbidden. "Soul twin," Remus said miserably. "He was the part of me that had always been missing." 

"I know," Voldemort said. "It must be terrible to be without him, but what would you say if I told you I could bring him back?"

"You can't bring people back from the dead," Remus exclaimed, horrified. "It's not possible."

"It is," Voldemort assured him. "I can bring back Sirius Black, the other half of your soul, if you take my hand once more." The Death Eaters clutching Remus' arms fell away and he was left standing in the centre of the circle with Voldemort once more. "Tell me truthfully Remus," the Dark Lord said. "What would you give to have Sirius back?"

"_Everything_," Remus voice said. 

He staggered backwards. 

Everything? He'd give them the Order? Give them Harry?

Give them his soul?

For Sirius.

No, it couldn't be tr-

But it was. Veritaserum never lied. 

Strong hands gripped him as Voldemort said, "I'll leave you to think about it Remus. My offer still stands." 

Remus tried to say "I'll never join you," but the words stuck in his throat and all he could manage was a faint moan of agony. Voldemort smiled sadly and Remus knew that sooner or later he would give in; he _would_ give anything just to speak to Sirius one last time and it terrified him. 

"Malfoy," Voldemort called, and another man stepped from the ranks and approached his lord respectfully. Voldemort spoke softly to him, and handed him a similar goblet to the one Remus had been presented with. The man removed his mask revealing shimmering silver hair and drank from it before speaking briefly, bowing to Voldemort once more and leaving. Throughout the exchange Voldemort kept his eyes on Remus and, now, finally, he nodded and the Death Eaters tore him away from the crimson gaze. As they walked, Remus stared blankly down at the hands supporting him. Neither were silver. Peter was obviously still part of the gathering around the fire, but the hand gripping his left arm was covered in a series of tattoos that were horribly familiar.

"_August_?" Remus gaped as they deposited him in the walled garden just behind the main courtyard and bound his legs and arms with cords. Like Snape did in the Shrieking Shack, Remus thought and wished he hadn't as he remembered the scream of rage that had followed from Sirius. August did not reply, he merely turned on his heel and followed his companion towards the archway that separated them from the courtyard. "But Dumbledore trusted you," Remus yelled after him. He felt like adding 'how dare you be a Death Eater; how dare you put me in this position!'

August turned slightly and though he was wearing a mask Remus could almost see his smirk. "As you said yourself," August growled, "the old fool's getting senile." He turned and left. 

Remus sat in the darkness and thought.

Through the wall he could hear the sounds of the meeting. Voldemort, perhaps inspired by his success, had decided to distribute the veritaserum among the rest of his Death Eaters to gauge their loyalty. In any other circumstances Remus was sure he would have found it fascinating to hear the innermost thoughts of these men who had sold themselves to abomination. Indeed it still was to a certain extent [under truth's influence he heard one of them say "Hey guys, I'm going to the bathroom. Okay?"] but now every veracity uttered reminded him of his own. 

"What would you give to have Sirius back?"

__

"Everything."


	8. Harry

Harry

As they neared the house Harry caught hold of Malfoy's arm. "You don't have to do this," he tried. "I know this isn't who you are."

Malfoy laughed derisively; clearly it was too dark for eyebrow raising. "And what do _you_ know about _me_, Potter?"

Harry thought quickly. To tell the truth he had always privately [and sometimes less privately] suspected that Draco Malfoy was a thoughtless and thoroughly evil little git but that was not going to help in the current situation. "I know you don't want to become like your father," he said suddenly. "You can't stand him; hate him even." 

Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks. "I respect my father," he said bluntly

"I respect Voldemort," Harry replied, quietly exulting as Malfoy flinched at the name. "But I don't want to become him."

"No, of course you don't" Malfoy snapped. "Saint _Potter_ with his silly little Mudblood friends: the next Dark Lord? Now there's an unlikely ending. However," his eyes met Harry's; filled with a fiery brilliance. "_However_," he repeated softly, "Draco Malfoy becoming Lucius… well that's not so impossible is it?" His voice changed, becoming aristocratic and haughty once more. "Now, really Potter this conversation is ridiculous; if you think that I'm going to let you go because I hate my father you have another thing coming."

"So you do hate him?"

"I thought we'd established that. On the other hand if I appear before the Dark Lord without you I will certainly be killed as will dear old Professor Lupin and I believe we had decided against that particular course, being in all respects inferior to the plan whereby we survive."

"_You_ survive," Harry said, discovering that he didn't care what he was saying anymore, but knowing somewhere deep inside that this conversation was possibly the most important one he had ever had. Somehow, impossibly, he had to convince Malfoy not to hand him to Voldemort. "Remus and I will still suffer a horrible, agonising death."

"That's a possibility I admit," Malfoy answered; he had started walking again. "But frankly, Potter, it's a risk I am willing to take. Now unless you want that risk to become a certainty I suggest you start following me again."

"Couldn't we just-"

"No!" It was a shout; something had reached him.

"If you hate your father so much why don't you stop trying to be him?" Harry asked.

"Because," Malfoy's face contracted in pain. "Because… it's what's expected of me. So much easier…" his eyes were bright with anger once more. "Leave me alone Potter, just, for once in your miserable little, perfect little, life, _give in._" His voice was rising again and Harry stopped. 

"Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you, I'm just extremely jealous of you," Draco screamed. 

There was silence as Harry stared, gobsmacked at his enemy.

"Happy?" he panted. "Are you _finally_ happy now, Potter?" 

"No," Harry said quietly and he wasn't. What reason did Draco Malfoy have to be jealous of him? Harry's parents were dead, betrayed by a friend they thought they could trust, and he had never known them or their best friend who had been jailed unfairly for a crime he hadn't committed. Harry himself had been tormented for the first eleven years of his life, living with the Dursleys who detested him almost as much as he hated them. And yet Malfoy was _jealous_ of him? 

Malfoy shut his eyes. "They'll have heard that," he said quietly. 

"Probably," Harry agreed. "You're jealous of-"

"Don't," Malfoy said, painfully. "Please… don't ask me any more questions. I should have remembered to warn you before we set out." He opened his eyes again and started towards the house once more. When Harry didn't follow he turned and said, "veritaserum," as if it explained anything. 

Harry still hadn't moved. "Why are you jealous of me?" he asked; Malfoy swung round, obviously infuriated but softened slightly as he realised Harry really wanted to know; that he didn't understand.

"Because," Draco said, then he stopped trying to fight the words back down. "You," he sighed and gave the same look as before: _what do I care? _This time washed with night time darkness. "You have friends you can talk to."

"You have friends," Harry reminded him.

Malfoy laughed mirthlessly. "Well you try and have a conversation with Crabbe or Goyle that doesn't start with 'I wonder what we're having for lunch today?' or 'Mmm lunch was nice, I wonder what's for tea.' And oddly enough I stopped finding that very stimulating after the first hour of our acquaintance." 

"We could be friends," Harry lied; this could be the way in.

"You hate me," Malfoy pointed out. 

"Maybe I wouldn't if you weren't such a little bastard."

"That's hardly likely now is it," Draco drawled, starting back towards the house. 

"Malfoy, _Draco_, I," for Remus then, "I want to be your friend."

"Really, you want to be my friend?" Draco asked, awestruck. Then he laughed. "This is a joke… I can't believe we're having this conversation."

"Why not?"

"Because Potter, to be perfectly frank, I don't believe you. This particular feeble lie is just another pathetic attempt to stop me handing you over to Voldemort and we decided we didn't like that plan, remember?"

"I have a new plan," Harry said. 

"Really, you do surprise me."

"Sorry," Harry apologised, playing his final desperate card. "You're right; let's just do it your way. My plan is far too difficult; you'd never manage it."

"Reverse psychology: very good Potter. What's the plan?"

Harry laughed. "It'll be dangerous."


	9. Remus

Remus

He heard the voices through the wall. Harry's and the Malfoy boy who had glared up at him during class and almost refused to learn.

"My Lord, Potter is here."

"Excellent. Well done Malfoy and welcome back Mr Potter."

"Spare me the pleasantries Riddle," Harry snapped back, pointlessly brave. "What have you done with Remus?"

"My dear boy," Voldemort continued, positively seething with malice and pleasure. "I have not done anything at all to our mutual acquaintance, Mr Lupin; he arrived here of his own free will and is of course free to leave any time he chooses."

"If he chooses to leave now he can leave with me?" Harry asked. Remus closed his eyes.

"He may leave," Voldemort conceded softly. Harry what are you doing here? Get out while you can.

"I want to see him," Harry insisted.

Voldemort laughed. "You're hardly in any position to make demands Mr Potter but since this also serves my purposes I will allow you this one." 

Moments later August and the other appeared and dragged him to his feet, hauled him out, left him before Voldemort and Harry. 

"How are you?" Harry asked, as if they were meeting in the Three Broomsticks once more.

"I've been better what the hell are you doing here?"

Harry smiled. "I could ask you the same question, Remus."

"Are you insane?"

"Possibly but," he smiled again, "I have faith that Dumbledore will help us once more, he knew we would need him."

There was a barely audible laugh from the circle of Death Eaters. "Albus Dumbledore has helped you too many times," Voldemort said silkily, formalities forgotten. "I fear this will not be one of them; Remus, have you decided to take up my offer?"

But Remus wasn't thinking about that any more. Harry had said that Dumbledore had known they would need him; he had already done something that would help them, a way out. A portkey.

Voldemort had of course asked him about whether he was armed; whether he had anything from Dumbledore but that had been while he had been shielded by Severus' potion and after it had worn off the question had not been asked again. 

__

Everything.

He smiled.

Albus Dumbledore did not look particularly surprised to see the three of them tumble into his office, Harry grasping the corner of Draco's cloak, to drag him with them. He looked up from the large autographed copy of _Magical Me_ he had been laughing over and regarded them thoughtfully over the top of his half moon spectacles.

"I take it, Remus, that the Dark Lord was not fooled?" he enquired politely, marking his page with a large ornate bookmark and setting the volume down on his desk. 

"He was not," Remus managed. "Incidentally, Albus, I think you should fire Jonathan August."


	10. Epilogue

Things resumed their normal pattern remarkably quickly. It never ceased to amaze Harry just _how_ quickly people could forget terrible things had happened but then, he reasoned, apart from himself and Draco the only people in the castle who knew what had happened were Ron and Hermione and they were rather wrapped up with the animagus transformation at the moment [Hermione had managed more whiskers and an, rubbery tail earlier this morning and she had refused to go down to lunch until they had helped her get rid of it.] Things with Draco had… well, not exactly progressed but had at least not gone backwards. Dumbledore had decided that he should stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas and Easter holidays and stay with Snape for the summer ones since it was no longer safe for him to return home after deserting the Death Eaters. Each time he passed Draco in the corridors, remembering his need for conversation, Harry tried to think of something nice to say to him; however, so far he had only managed "Alright, Malfoy?" which had been met with a "Sod off, Potter." 

However it seemed there was another reason Draco had been jealous of Harry, namely the attention he received from a certain red head, smaller and a great deal prettier than Ron, for Malfoy had now approached her and was whispering something that made his pale cheeks flush.

Sitting next to her however, Ron, rose to his feet enraged. "You have the effrontery to try and date Ginny! I shall see you suffer a thousand deaths for this!" he shouted which a great many people seemed to find extremely funny. Then Malfoy laughed and Ron punched him and Harry decided that it wasn't funny, it was hilarious. Malfoy might have helped him free Remus but he was still a git, even if he wasn't _completely_ evil.

*

Meanwhile Remus had been having trouble sleeping, images of crimson promises and black dogs assailing his senses whenever he closed his eyes. 

__

"Everything."

Naturally Severus Snape was not very pleased to see Remus standing in the crack of his open door. "What do you want?" he snarled. 

Remus considered this question. "The truth," he decided. "I smell tea; can I come in?"

* * *

__

"That, my dear Algy, is the whole truth pure and simple."

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature a complete impossibility."

"That wouldn't be at all a bad thing."

~Oscar Wilde

P.S I know Ali for one will be incredibly unhappy with this ending so I figure I'll tell you what happens even though it detracts from the dramatic effect. if you don't want know, don't read this, however it turns out that Voldemort, knowing from Wormtail and from August what it would take to make Remus join him did not give him veritaserum in its purest form but rather an altered version. When questioned under Snape's potion Remus is relieved to find he would never have given up Harry for the promise of Sirius. And Remus/Snape is a pairing I abhor so let's not even go there, ok? Thanks for reading.


End file.
